"What do you mean, I cannot attack humans?" Klaus shouted angrily, incensed enough to attempt to rise from the bed before Stefan's firm hand on his chest convinced him to think the better of it.

"It is just as I said," repeated Jacqueline impatiently, "Whoever this Malachi is, he has access to levels of magic I did not even know existed. Magic strong enough to render a vampire with even your kind of power essentially...harmless."

Klaus's eyes flashed blue as he snapped, "Give me a few more days to recover, and I will personally show you who is harmless."

"Klaus," Stefan said warningly, "Jacqueline has been more than kind in hosting us and helping you recover. Not only is what happened to you not here fault, but she may be the only one who can fix it. So I would suggest you apologize before you find yourself out on the street with no powers and no friends."

Klaus stared at Stefan for a couple moments, as if weighing his words carefully, then turned to Jacqueline and murmured, "Je suis désolé, Jacqueline. This entire affair has me a bit on edge. I have overstepped my bounds as a guest of your house, and for that I sincerely apologize."

Stefan stared at him in astonishment before remembering that Klaus had, after all, played the part of the English gentleman for quite some time. Clearly something as rigid and ingrained as the British etiquette system could never be completely forgotten.

Jacqueline watched them with something Stefan would have sworn was masked amusement before continuing on, "As I was saying, the spell Malachi cast on Klaus has done something to Klaus's mind, whereby any attack on a human causes him extreme pain."

"And that's why he screamed and passed out when he tried to drink from that girl last night?" Stefan said, slowly putting the pieces together.

"I believe so," Jacqueline agreed. "I can't know even begin to try and reverse the spell until we know who we're dealing with, so that has to be our first order of business."

"Well, how do we do that?" Stefan asked. "Something tells me googling 'Malachi plus sorcerer' isn't going to be terribly helpful."

Jacqueline narrowed her eyes at him before sweeping out of the room without a word, Stefan presumed to find research materials.

Taking advantage of the lull, he got up and offered Klaus another blood bag. Seeing the sulky look on Klaus's face, he added firmly, "Come on, Klaus, you need to keep your strength up. You nearly died last night, if you remember."

Klaus continued to stare at it sullenly for a couple moments before finally snatching it from Stefan's outstretched hand and taking a few sips. "This is so demeaning," he said, his face arranged in a pout. "I mean, vampires are hunters by nature, Stefan. Me drinking blood from a bag is like a lion getting...McDonalds. It's just wrong!"

"Would you stop complaining for one second and just be grateful that you're alive?" Stefan asked, exasperated. "I know you've spent centuries thinking you're invincible, Klaus, but you're not. It's high time you realized that."

Klaus looked at Stefan like he had more to say, but was prevented from responding by Jacqueline's rapid return to the room, her arms filled with an improbable number of dusty, leather-bound tomes. "There's four generations of Dupont knowledge in these books," she said proudly as she dropped them gently on the desk. "Google has nothing on me."

Stefan gave her a little smile before he picked up a book and asked, "So, how does this work exactly? I mean, we know next to nothing about him."

"Power," Klaus said thoughtfully, as Jacqueline moved to deposit a stack of books next to him on the bed. "The kind of power that he has must come from somewhere. That's where we start."

Three hours and fifteen books later, they knew no more of Malachi than when the search had begun.

"This is pointless," Klaus said frustratedly, emphatically closing the book he was perusing and placing it on the pile next to where Stefan was stretched out beside him on the bed.

With a small glance at Klaus, Stefan laid his own book on his chest, closed his eyes, and let out a long sigh. "There has to be something we're missing, Jacqueline," he said tiredly.

"Je ne sais pas, Stefan," Jacqueline replied, leaning back in her chair. "If there is something more, I certainly don't know what it is."

Stefan pondered in silence for a few minutes, exclaiming suddenly, "Wait, wait. He said his name meant the messenger, didn't he?"

"I do seem to recall hearing something like that in between the bouts of incredible agony he was causing me," Klaus said dryly.

Stefan ignored the sarcasm and pressed on, "And he also implied that his existence was a direct consequence of you releasing your werewolf side, yes?"

Klaus turned to look at Stefan, his blue eyes suddenly bright and alert, and said slowly, "Yes, I suppose he did."

"If they chose him as the messenger, clearly someone is sending a very specific message," Stefan reasoned. "If we find them, we can find out how to defeat Malachi."

"Witches!" Klaus exclaimed suddenly. "With everything that he was saying about balance, it has to be witches. They were the ones who came up with the curse in the first place, so it only makes sense they would act when it was broken."

Stefan nodded slowly, then turned his attention to Jacqueline and asked urgently, "Jacqueline, do you know of any covens powerful enough to summon someone like Malachi?"

She thought for a few minutes, her expression growing more and more troubled, until at last she said tentatively, "There is one."

"Well, where are they?" Klaus demanded, "How do we defeat them?"

"You are a fool if you think it will be as easy as that, Klaus," Jacqueline said darkly. "No one has seen them and lived to speak of it for over two hundred years."

"Who are they?" Stefan inquired.

"They have been called many different things over the centuries," Jacqueline explained. She rose and stared off into the distance as she continued, "It is said that they started as an off-shoot of the Vestal Virgins, tending the sacred fire of the goddess Vesta; the Romans believed that their city could flourish only as long as the fire was not extinguished. Consequently, there are those who think that the Vestals themselves caused the fall of Rome because they believed the city to have violated the balance of the universe in the scope of its power and influence."

"Wait, wait, you're saying we have to take down a group of witches that toppled the Roman Empire?" Stefan asked, looking mildly horrified.

"You misunderstand me, Stefan," Jacqueline replied. "We cannot defeat them. Their power is rooted in something far too old for them to be vanquishable, by us or anyone else. Our only chance is to make them reverse things, to convince them that releasing Malachi was a greater crime against balance than allowing Klaus to be unchecked."

"And how can you be sure it's them?" Klaus asked skeptically, folding his arms over his chest.

"Oh, didn't I say?" Jacqueline asked with a falsely innocent smile, "They were the ones who put the binding curse on you in the first place."

Klaus unleashed an inventive stream of expletives, causing Stefan to send Jacqueline an apologetic look, to which she responded with a raised eyebrow and amused head tilt, as if to say, You think I haven't heard worse?

"Putting aside the fact that we have to persuade a group of witches who hate Klaus to not only destroy the only person powerful enough to defeat him, but also give him back the powers they never wanted him to have in the first place -" Stefan began.

"Oh yes, let's put that aside, it's hardly relevant," Klaus interrupted sarcastically.

"For the moment," Stefan continued loudly, thumping Klaus on the chest with the book he had been holding, "How do we even find these witches?"

Jacqueline's brow furrowed, and she was silent for a few moments before answering, "There is someone who may be able to help us, but if I am to find him, I must go immediately to Marseilles."

"Should we come with you?" Stefan inquired, "It could be dangerous."

"More dangerous if you're with me, I think," Jacqueline replied. "Malachi has thus far remained unaware of your presence, and the more I think about it, the more I am convinced it is because of this room. When I was a little girl, my grandfather used to take me down here with him and tell me, "Jacqueline, ma p'tite, always remember this - as long as you are in this room, you are completely safe. No matter how hard they try, no one will ever be able to find you here." At the time, I thought nothing of it, but the more I consider it now, the more I am convinced he cast a shielding spell on this chamber."

"And you think the second that Klaus and I leave, Malachi will be able to sense us?" Stefan suggested.

"I believe so, yes," Jacqueline agreed, gathering a few things from around the room as she spoke. "If you leave before Klaus is fully recovered, you won't stand a chance at even evading, let alone defeating him. Besides, I do not believe he knows of my involvement, so there will be little danger for me in travelling alone."

With a quick glance around the room and a small nod, she added, "Now, I should go. I will send you a message if I find what we are looking for." With that, she swept up the staircase, opened the hidden door, and was gone.

Stefan had returned his attention to the book in his hand, hoping to find some kind of leverage to use against the witches, when Klaus suddenly shouted, "What good is this going to do anyway?" and threw his own book at the opposite wall, which it hit full on before falling to the ground with a thud.

"Oh, very mature, Klaus," Stefan said sarcastically, swinging off the bed to go and pick up the book, "For a guy who's thousands of years old, you sure have a penchant for acting like a child."

Klaus said nothing, but crossed his arms over his chest and stared stormily off into the distance.

Having lived with Damon for over a year now, Stefan knew that pose very well - the quiet, calm surface masking a massive tangle of emotional upheaval beneath.

He placed the book softly on the little writing desk, then slowly walked over to sit beside Klaus on the bed. "What's this really about, Klaus?" Stefan said quietly. "Talk to me."

Klaus turned to look at him, his blue eyes filled with unaccustomed uncertainty. He opened, then closed his mouth a few times, as if unsure how to go the ritual of about confiding in someone.

Finally, he began miserably, "I have been a killer for a thousand years, Stefan. I take what I want, and I don't care who I hurt, and above all, I am beholden to no one. I am hated, and I am feared, and in return I show no mercy. That is who I am. This helpless, pitiful creature who can't drink from even the most insignificant human? I don't know who he is, but he's not me."

Stefan considered this for a couple of moments before responding, "Let me ask you something, Klaus. All that fear and hatred you were talking about, what did it get you? Did it make you happy?"

"Happy?" Klaus asked with a sharp little laugh, "We're vampires, Stefan, it is not our goal to be happy. To be worshipped, to be powerful, to be gods - that is for us. Happiness is for mortals who can't even begin to imagine anything beyond it."

"You're wrong, Klaus," Stefan said evenly, keeping eye contact between them. "If we choose to, we can feel everything we did when we were humans - more so, in fact. I played the death and destruction game once, too, as you well know; I tell you truthfully that it never brought me more than a few moments of fleeting pleasure. I killed and killed and killed, and every time I felt less and less, until it got to the point where nothing even made a dent. That was when I decided I wanted my life to be more than that."

"So you think I should just give it all up?" Klaus asked incredulously, "Relinquish the feeling of ultimate power to, what, live the American dream - white picket fence, couple of adorable moppets, refrigerator full of prepackaged blood? I can't play human, Stefan, I've no talent for it."

"But you must have once," Stefan pointed out. "You were human, too, once upon a time, like I was. You had a human life, a family."

Klaus's face clouded over as he said, "Oh, I had a family all right - we were even somewhat happy for a time, even after we became vampires. That was until my sixteenth birthday, when my father found out I wasn't his. That was when everything I loved in this world burned and turned to ash in my hands."

"What happened?" Stefan asked, concerned.

"It's a bad story, Stefan," Klaus warned him darkly. "Are you absolutely sure you want to hear it?"

Stefan pivoted so he was facing Klaus and said seriously, "Yes, Klaus, I'm sure."

Klaus nodded solemnly and began, "My father had always been a violent man, and I'd had no illusions that he loved me, but nothing which came before could have possibly prepared me for what happened that day. My mother had thrown me a party to mark the occasion, and while the guests were enjoying themselves, two of my brothers and I stole some vodka and had our own little celebration behind the house. When my father caught us drinking it, he flew into a rage, grabbed the half-empty bottle, and broke it over my head."

"Just for having a little alcohol?" Stefan asked, horrified.

Klaus gave him a little shrug and continued, "It was nothing new, and though I normally just waited out his rages, that night was different. That night it made me truly angry, angrier than I had ever felt before. I pushed him as hard as I could, and to my surprise he flew across the yard. As I stood there, wondering what had just happened, I heard my brothers whispering, "His eyes. His eyes!" I turned to look at my reflection in the small lily-pond my mother had created beside the house, and sure enough, my eyes were glowing a bright golden-yellow, not at all like either their normal blue shade or the deep black they turned from bloodlust.

"Your werewolf side was waking up," Stefan deduced.

Klaus nodded in assent, then went on, "While I was trying to figure out what on earth was wrong with me, my father got up and was preparing to attack me again, but stopped dead in his tracks for a full ten seconds when he saw my eyes. If I thought he was angry before, it was nothing compared to how he looked after that. He let out this savage sort of scream and came at me with the first weapon he could find, which happened to be a piece of steel piping lying in a heap of building materials nearby."

Stefan noticed with some dismay that Klaus subconsciously drew his knees up to his chest, as if trying to defend himself against the memory, before he continued, "Even with my newfound hybrid strength, I was no match for his rage, and before I knew it, he'd struck me to the ground. Then he just kept beating me again and again with that pipe and yelling, "You are not my son! You are not my son!" over and over again. At some point in the middle of it all, as I began to black out from the pain and blood loss, I remember thinking, 'This is it. He's really going to kill me this time, and there's nothing I can do about it.' "

"I'm sorry, Klaus," Stefan said quietly, shifting closer to him, "That's an awful thing."

Klaus lifted his head to look at him, and Stefan was startled to see his eyes were wet as he said, "Oh, that's not the worst part, Stefan. Death I could have handled. But my mother must have heard the commotion, and when she came running out to help me, he directed his fury at her instead. I watched as he slammed her up against the wall of the house and screamed how she was a whore, a bitch, a slut, and demanded to know how long she'd been fucking Joshua - a friend of the family. She wept and denied it, swore that she loved him and would never, but this just made him angrier, and he slapped her, hard enough that she fell to the ground."

Stefan could see tears begin to fall unbidden from Klaus's eyes, and instinctively reached out a hand to give Klaus's a reassuring squeeze. Klaus's voice trembled a little, but he kept going, "Then he grabbed a sharpened piece of firewood from the same heap of junk and used it to pin her up against the wall, the tip of it positioned directly over her heart. Fear danced in her eyes, and she pleaded with him not to do it, to think of the children, of their life together, but he just screamed at her again. And then he killed her, drove the wood right through her heart. My father killed my mother right there, in front of me, and there wasn't I thing I could do to stop it. The last thing I remember before my memory just goes blank is her eyes - when he impaled her, her head fell to the side, and I could pinpoint the exact moment when the light went out of her eyes forever. And just like that, the only person who ever really loved me was gone."

"Oh, Klaus," Stefan murmured softly, his heart going out to the man on the bed, who at that moment looked much more like a broken, scared boy of sixteen than a remorseless killer who'd lived through multiple millennia.

"To this day, I have no recollection of how I escaped," Klaus finished, laying his head tiredly down on his knees. "The next thing I knew, I was lying in the woods, miles from my home, covered in my own blood. It took a few days of living off of the blood of wild animals and the occasional careless hunter for me to get back the strength to travel, but as soon as I was able, I made my way back toward our estate. I threw open the front door and called for my mother, desperately hoping it had been some sort of awful dream, but the second I was met by my eldest brother William and saw the anger on his face, I knew it had all been real. He filled me in on what had happened in the days I had missed: our father had hunted down and killed not only my biological father, Joshua, but his entire family as well. Now there was a war raging between our families. When William had finished, he looked at me, then very calmly told me to get out, to leave and never, ever come back. He said that I was the reason our mother was dead, that I was a half-breed monster, and if I even thought of returning, he would kill me on sight."

"How could he have said that to you?" Stefan demanded, incensed, "What happened wasn't your fault. I mean, he was your brother, for God's sake!"

"Half-brother," Klaus corrected, "Which apparently meant just enough to him not to kill me then and there."

"What did you do, then?" Stefan asked, trying to bring his temper down again.

"What could I do?" Klaus responded with a resigned little shrug, "I ran, first out of that house, then as far as I could go. My biological parents were both dead, the man I had always thought of as my father wanted to kill me, and my siblings thought of me as some kind of freak who had gotten their mother killed. Everything I had ever loved, had ever been during my human life, was gone. So I waited, watched, bided my time, and eventually I killed every single one of them for what they stole from me. All except Elijah - he was always my favorite, and my one act of mercy. But now he's gone, too, and I am well and truly alone. So, you see, Stefan, why any talk of love and family does little to sway me in favor of humanity."

Stefan stared at him for a long while, overcome with compassion for Klaus, what he'd lost, what he'd gone through. Finally, he reached a hand up to brush the tears off Klaus's cheeks and, cupping Klaus's face in his hand, declared, "I am so, so sorry, Klaus. I didn't know."

"How could you have?" Klaus asked with a sad, little smile, "You're the only person I've ever told, and all the rest of them are long dead."

Stefan paused a while, his hand still resting on Klaus's cheek, before he ventured, "You know, it doesn't have to be like that. Letting yourself feel things, letting your human side take the lead - it doesn't have to hurt."

"But that's what being human is, Stefan," Klaus insisted with a shake of his head, 'It's pain, pure and simple. There's nothing in this world that lasts forever, and the second you let yourself love something, you're just setting yourself up to get hurt when you lose it."

"So it's better to never love anything?" Stefan asked incredulously, "I don't believe that, Klaus. And I don't think you do, either, not really."

"Where do you get it from, Stefan?" Klaus asked quietly, "All this hope?"

"There are people out there who love me," Stefan said simply. "I get it from them."

Klaus looked at him curiously, then said, "Don't think I'm not grateful for everything you've done for me, Stefan - because I am, very - but I have to ask: why the hell are you sitting here with me in the dark instead of out living your life with them?"

Stefan looked into Klaus's eyes, absently noticing how the extraordinary blue of his irises was only intensified by the thin film of water still hovering over them, and, in lieu of a verbal response, crossed the small distance between them and laid his lips softly on Klaus's. The impact of the kiss was minimal - it lasted barely a few seconds - but Stefan could practically feel the air around them crackle and burn.

When Stefan withdrew, Klaus started, "Stefan..." but cut himself off, as if unsure how to proceed.

"This doesn't have to be complicated," Stefan said patiently. "Just answer one question honestly - do you want me?"

"I've wanted you since the day I met you," Klaus responded sincerely, "That's not the point. You shouldn't want me!"

"Now, isn't that up to me?" Stefan asked patiently, giving Klaus a completely inscrutable smile.

"But you and Elena..." Klaus objected again.

"Had an expiration date from the beginning," Stefan finished with a little sigh. "I realize that now. She deserves the kind of normal life she's always wanted, the kind I just can't give her. Better to break it off now than in twenty years, or sixty, when it's too late for her to build a real life with somebody."

Klaus absorbed this new information thoughtfully, then shook his head and said exasperatedly, "Come on, I'm no good for you, Stefan. I destroy everything I touch. I blackmailed you into coming with me because I wanted to destroy you, for God's sake!"

"No, you didn't," Stefan said simply.

"What do you mean I didn't?" Klaus exclaimed. "I think I know what I did and did not do, Stefan!"

"You didn't choose me because you wanted to ruin me," Stefan explained, continuing before Klaus could protest, "Oh, I'm sure you think you did, but I assure you, you're quite wrong. You chose me because, deep down, some part of you hoped there might be a chance that I could actually see through your bullshit. And that maybe, just maybe, I could save you from yourself."

Klaus looked at him for a few moments, then, in one swift move, Stefan found himself pinned back on the faded quilt with Klaus staring down at him, his expression distinctly amused as he said, "You think an awful lot of yourself, don't you?"

Stefan shoved up on Klaus's chest just hard enough to flip him swiftly onto his back as he rolled on top of him and murmured, "Damn right I do. Now, I believe you said something about wanting me?"

Klaus then gave him a smile so genuine that it made Stefan's stomach do strange, little flips without his bidding and said, "Yes, I believe I did."

Stefan brought his face mere centimeters from Klaus's before whispering, "Then I'm yours."

Klaus didn't need to be told twice.

Three hours and several rounds of what Stefan would legitimately classify as mind-blowing sex later, Stefan was just drifting very comfortably off to sleep, when Klaus suddenly shook him by the shoulders, whispering loudly, "Stefan, Stefan!"

"Mmm...stop it...sleeping..." Stefan mumbled as he tried unsuccessfully to snuggle closer to Klaus, letting out a little yelp when the other man sat bolt upright and sent Stefan tumbling face-first into the covers.

Stefan was just preparing to give Klaus a whack on the arm when he noticed him pointing animatedly at something. He followed the line of Klaus's finger and was shocked to discover a stream of fiery letters slowing scrolling across the wall opposite them.

Stefan pivoted and sat up next to Klaus, who began reading them aloud as they appeared: "Boys - I know where to find the coven, but we must leave at once. I'll be round to fetch you at dawn, so be ready. - J"

Stefan was just about to comment when another stream of letters began, and Klaus let out a slightly shocked laugh before he read, "P.S. I'm sure you boys have been taking full advantage of the private time, but you might want to get some actual sleep, as we are fighting evil in the morning."

"But...what...how...?" Stefan sputtered, still a bit sleepy and utterly confused

"She did say she'd send us a message," Klaus reminded Stefan wryly.

"How did she know?" Stefan asked, turning to him in amazement.

"Well, for one thing, she is a powerful witch," Klaus said seriously, as if truly considering the problem, "And for another...she has eyes. I highly doubt we were being as subtle as we thought we were."

Stefan gave him a grin and replied, "Probably not. As it is, I'd say she's right about the sleep thing - as in, we should get some."

"She is right an infuriating amount of the time," Klaus admitted with a little sigh as he lay back down on the bed, extending his arm so Stefan could duck under it and settle himself on his chest.

Stefan did so gladly, and when they had been silent for a few moments, he ventured, "Klaus?"

"Mmmm?" Klaus mumbled sleepily, absently stroking Stefan's hair.

"What happens if we can't get your powers back tomorrow?" Stefan asked.

Klaus stopped stroking for a moment as he said quietly, "I don't know, Stefan. I suppose we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Yes," said Stefan thoughtfully, scooting up slightly to nestle his head in the crook of Klaus's neck, "I suppose we will."